The Watcher observed from his perch above, his gaze fixated on Clint and Bucky as they retraced their steps toward their observation point. The echoes of Clint's recent conversation with Natalia buzzed in his mind, leaving him tangled in a web of confusion, plagued by more questions than answers.
"There's... there's a baby," Clint breathed out, his voice barely a whisper, reverberating with disbelief. Bucky, keenly attuned to the nuances of Clint's tone, turned his thoughtful gaze toward him, lingering on the memory of the conversation they had just witnessed.
"I saw," Bucky replied, a furrow of concern appearing on his brow. "Do you think it's hers?" The weight of the question hung heavily in the air, charged with unspoken implications.
Clint's mind raced, frantic thoughts colliding within him like storm clouds. "It can't be," he muttered under his breath, his thoughts drifting to the five-month-old infant—tiny and perfect, yet burdened with an impossible lineage. "But it looks just like her. And she named him Clinton."
A frown creased Bucky's forehead, the gears of his mind working swiftly. "How can it be?" he pressed, his voice low and urgent. "She's..."
"I know," Clint interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended. The moment hung between them, heavy with unvoiced emotions. Regret washed over him, and he let out a weary sigh. "I'm sorry, man. My thoughts are all over the place right now."
Bucky relaxed slightly, the tension between them easing. "What about her?" he inquired, genuine curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Did she recognize you? Was there even the slightest glimmer of a message, a sign—anything in her eyes?"
Clint shook his head, frustration evident in his furrowed brow. "No. Nothing. I tried to give her as many opportunities…." His fingers fidgeted with his hearing aids, a reflective action that stemmed from the anxiety churning within.
"And how... did she seem?" Bucky pressed, eager to grasp any shard of insight.
Clint hesitated, grappling with the recollection. "She seemed... happy, Buck," he admitted, each word weighed down by disbelief. The sight of Natasha radiating joy was foreign to him; it ignited a flicker of doubt. "I've never seen her like that before. It's like... she's found a piece of herself. But she's so happy—like she's living this perfect life." He turned his gaze to where Peter and Natalia sat, tending to their cherubic son, who gurgled with innocence. "I honestly don't know if we should be trying to rescue her from this. It looks like she doesn't need saving at all."
The Watcher, observing the scene with the gravity of ages, interjected. "They have no idea what to do," he noted solemnly, the truth stark against the warm glow of the family below. "All they can do right now is bear witness to this unfolding life, hoping to unravel the mystery that binds them."
Peter arrived at STAR Labs, a place buzzing with energy and urgency. The familiar hum of machinery filled the air as he spotted Cisco, Caitlin, and Ronnie diligently working to bring the facility back online. They were surrounded by an array of blinking monitors, cables, and advanced technology as they reconnected the computers, attempting to regain access to the satellite that could track threats in Central City.
"Okay, I think I got us in," Cisco exclaimed, a hint of excitement in his voice as he noticed the screens flickering to life. "We're back on track! STAR Labs is officially operational again."
"Fantastic! But how exactly do we locate Mardon?" Peter inquired, feeling a mix of urgency and determination.
Caitlin stepped forward, her focus unwavering as she presented a tablet filled with data. "I've been working on retasking the satellite to detect unusual weather patterns across Central City," she explained. "Look here— we just received a signal. The atmospheric pressure in downtown has plummeted in mere seconds."
"Sounds exactly like what he would do," Ronnie speculated, his brow furrowing as he focused on the screen. "So, what's our strategy going to be?"
Peter sighed heavily, a touch of concern in his expression. "Honestly, Electro's control over the weather is unlike anything I've encountered before. I'm not sure how to handle it."
Cisco, always the problem solver, chimed in with a spark of inspiration. "Remember when you fought him last time? It took him a minute or two to harness and reshape the weather patterns around him, right?"
"Yeah, it did," Peter recalled, nodding as memories flooded back.
"Exactly! That means he needs significant concentration to keep that kind of control," Cisco explained, piecing together a plan.
"So, all Peter has to do is be annoyingly distracting— which shouldn't be hard for you," Caitlin teased, adding a playful tone to the discussion.
"If we disrupt Mardon's focus, he'll exhaust himself trying to maintain his abilities, and that's when you can swoop in and catch him," Ronnie concluded, a confident grin spreading across his face.
Peter listened closely to their suggestions, a smirk forming on his lips. "I think I've got the gist of it… but could you please repeat the whole plan? I wasn't paying attention," he joked, displaying the cheeky attitude they all knew so well.
The trio groaned in unison, rolling their eyes at his playful antics.
"And Natalia has agreed to marry you," Ronnie couldn't resist adding, a hint of mischief in his voice.
"Not to mention, bear your child!" Cisco added with a chuckle, the atmosphere in the room lightening despite the looming threat outside.
Natalia settled onto the rocking chair, trying to follow Peter's advice to rest, but restless thoughts kept bubbling to the surface. The gentle hum of her mind nudged her toward their son's room, where an inexplicable urge tugged at her to check on him. As she quietly pushed open the door, she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of tiny Clinton trying to wiggle his way out of his crib, his little limbs flailing momentarily before he noticed her presence.
"Coo…" the little one chirped, his big, expressive eyes lighting up as she approached.
"Hey there, my sweet little adventurer," Natalia murmured affectionately, bending slightly to get a closer look at him as she reached over the wooden crib's edge. "You're supposed to be fast asleep. Are you up to mischief already?"
Almost as if enchanted by her voice, Clinton began to flutter his eyelids, calming under the warmth of his mother's presence.
"Why don't I sing you a lullaby?" she proposed gently, cradling him in her arms and adjusting her position in the cozy rocking chair. The chair creaked softly as she settled in, creating a comforting rhythm. With a smile tugging at her lips, Natalia began to sing a melodious Russian lullaby, the sound flowing from her like a soothing stream. "Where the dreamy Volga flows, there's a lonely Russian Rose. Gazing tenderly down upon her knee where a baby's brown eyes glisten. Listen ev'ry night you'll hear her croon. A Russian lullaby just a little plaintive tune when baby starts to cry. Rock-a-bye my baby. Somewhere there may be a land that's free for you and me and a Russian lullaby."
The notes hung in the air, wrapping around Clinton like a soft blanket, and it wasn't long before his little eyelids grew heavy, his tiny body relaxing against her. A wave of contentment washed over Natalia, and she lovingly stroked his velvety head, her heart swelling with affection.
But as her voice faded, a curious thought fluttered through her mind. Where had she learned that song? The melody felt oddly familiar, yet she couldn't recall ever having encountered it before. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning—she didn't even know she could speak Russian, let alone remember an entire lullaby. The mystery of her sudden linguistic skill danced in the corners of her mind, leaving her both intrigued and unsettled as she continued to hold her slumbering son close.
Seems that they were right on that thing about Mardon going to rob another bank, as there were reports of a story around another bank. When Peter arrived, he was met with a hurricane inside of a vault.
"I wanna say something like, how's the weather in here? But that seems cheesy even for me." Peter commented, getting the attention of Mardon.
"You again?" Mardon asked him in annoyance. "Don't you ever learn?"
"Not really. It's one of my many what I like to call quirks." Peter commented, shooting a stream of webbing at him.
Mardon reacted fast by shielding himself with ice formed on his wrists. Before Peter could react, he pushed Spider-Man out of the vault and even sent the door flying. He managed to swing and land on the wall to be out of the range of fire.
"Did you really think that you could defeat me that easily?" Mardon asked as he noticed the bank was empty.
"I was hoping on it. If not, I had a backup plan." Peter said, gesturing to the floor.
When Mardon looked down, he saw that the floor was covered in webbing that hadn't hardened yet. "What was this supposed to do?"
"This," Peter said before shooting a Taser web.
When the web made contact with the floor, it caused a chain reaction that electrocuted everything and took down Mardon in a matter of seconds before he fell unconscious. He then flipped and landed on the floor, while his suit took the electrical damage. Thanks to the years of fighting Electro, Kraven, and so many others, he finally updated his suit to take the damage from all their powers.
"You guys there?" Peter asked as he tapped his ear, where he had added a comm system.
"Yeah, we saw everything," Cisco reported from Peter's home office. "A little anticlimactic."
"Just be glad nobody got hurt," Caitlin replied to him.
"Well, that was a good idea on the taser webbing." Peter complimented his friends as he strapped an experimental collar to dampen Weather Wizard's powers. It was created from the cells in the Pipeline of STAR Labs, which is still condemned but he managed to sneak in. It is easy to sneak into places when you're Spider-Man. "Contact the police. Tell them we've got a special delivery incoming."
As Natalia slipped into a trance, she found her consciousness drifting back to the vivid memories conjured by her therapist. When she finally opened her eyes, the surroundings were disconcerting; the home she was witnessing bore no resemblance to the familiar places of her childhood. The walls weren't painted in the pastel colors she remembered, nor did the furniture reflect the cozy warmth of family gatherings.
Her hair had once been a rich chestnut, not the electric blue hue that now defined her identity in this strange reality. The landscape outside was unfamiliar, a sprawling suburban neighborhood that she presumed might be situated in Ohio—a place she had never called home. Confusion washed over her, leaving her grappling with the fragments of her past. Which memories were genuine, and which had been fabricated or distorted?
As her younger self wandered to the backyard, a feeling of nostalgia wrestled with unease. She spotted a figure swinging back and forth on the old wooden swings, the chains creaking softly in the warm breeze. But before she could glimpse the person clearly or feel the connection that sparked in her chest, her reverie shattered abruptly.
Jerked back to the present moment, she found herself in the cluttered garage, surrounded by half-finished projects and the scent of oil and metal. Her gaze fell to the object in her hands, and disbelief washed over her as she beheld a device resembling a taser. It was unlike anything she had ever imagined creating—sleek, metallic, and dangerous. And yet, a part of her wondered what purpose it served and how it had come to be in her possession.
"What...what have I done?" Natalia asked as she looked down at the gadget. It almost looked like a bracelet of sorts as she slipped it on her arm, accidentally shooting a dart-like projectile that was embedded in the wall.
"Mysteries yet to be unveiled. Many questions are yet to be answered. Their journey is only beginning..." The Watcher said as he eyed the Parker family.
Natalia was just discovering her past and everything that had been hidden from her throughout her whole life.
Peter had discovered the accelerator did more than give his fiancé nightmares.
Bucky and Clint promise to watch and observe as the Watcher does the same thing.
"Natasha Romanoff," a cloaked figure remarked, her eyes locked onto the grainy footage displaying the moments leading Taskmaster to Natasha's current whereabouts. A sly smile played on her lips as she absentmindedly caressed the smooth fabric of her skintight emerald green suit, the material glistening under the ambient light. Her long, flowing hair—also a vibrant shade of green—tumbled over her shoulders like a waterfall, catching the light with every subtle movement.
"Central City. That certainly narrows the search," she mused, her voice laced with an intriguing mix of amusement and calculation. With a flick of her wrist, she twisted the ornate watch encircling her arm—a device pulsating with a faint, otherworldly glow. In an instant, her figure warped and shimmered, vanishing from the scene as if she were nothing more than a mirage.
"Ophelia Sarkissian," the Watcher declared, his voice echoing through the cosmos as he introduced the world to this enigmatic character. "She possesses knowledge that is crucial for Natalia—knowledge that may prove unsettling..."
As Peter stepped through the sleek, glass doors of STAR Labs, he let out a weary sigh and carefully removed his mask, revealing his exhausted face. Mardon was arrested by the CCPD and was on his way to the RAFT, the high-tech security prison made for people like Mardon and Electro.
"So, have you managed to determine just how many of these individuals there are like Mardon?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Metahumans," Cisco interjected, focusing Peter's attention on him with an earnest expression. "That's what I think we should call them—metahumans."
"Yeah, he came up with that while you were on your way back," Ronnie chimed in, his tone light but serious.
Caitlin, tapping commands on her laptop, pulled up video footage of the chaotic event that set everything in motion. "We found this in the surveillance from the particle accelerator explosion," she explained, her eyes widening as the images appeared on the large screen before them. Bright flashes and swirling clouds of energy filled the frame, remnants of the catastrophic incident. "The explosion sent out a vast cloudburst of unknown energies—Dark Matter, X-elements, and even Antimatter..."
"All theoretical concepts," Ronnie added, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the cool lab table. "But considering we control the weather and you have Spider-Man as your best friend, perhaps it's time we retire the word 'impossible.'"
Peter squinted at the screen, focusing intently on the image of a sprawling cityscape. "So, how many are we looking at here? A handful, maybe?" he probed, feeling the weight of the situation deepen.
Caitlin then showcased a complex theoretical model depicting the geometry of exposure to the particle accelerator's fallout. As she manipulated the visuals with precision, hundreds of glowing dots scattered across the city, each representing a potential metahuman spot of impact. The sheer number was staggering; dozens of known criminals and civilians alike could now possess extraordinary abilities.
"This could take a long time," Peter murmured discouragingly, his heart sinking at the enormity of their challenge.